


Exhale

by shadowNova



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Accidentally Suggestive Grape-Consumption, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Forgiveness, Found Family, Gen, Post-Dishonored: Death of the Outsider, Touch-Starved, Trauma Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 18:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowNova/pseuds/shadowNova
Summary: They were all broken, in their own ways, jagged and sharp edges that felt harsher still against the backdrop of trying to return to a normal life. But somehow, those sharp edges seemed to fit together perfectly, like a puzzle made of lives. This is how they put themselves back together, and learned how to live again.





	Exhale

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably mostly be feel-good fluff, because I ship the Outsider with happiness and I think they've earned their happily ever after by now. If there's any scenes you'd like to see, let me know and I'll see if I can work them in!

Shellshock.

 

That was the only thing Billie could think of to call it, as she watched the man- god-  ~~_ boy? _ ~~ ~~-~~ from her spot by the window. He’d hardly spoken since that moment in the void, save for a quiet, but polite, ‘thank you’ when she had led him over to the chair. For the most part, he’d just sat there, looking strangely small, and distressingly human, staring at his hands. He hadn’t even noticed her watching her, turning his hands over again and again, the long fingers of one trailing over the back of the other. Uncomfortable, she looked away, clearing her throat as she pushed off from the wall.

 

“I’m going to put a pot on. You got a favorite type of tea?”

 

He jumped, just a bit, head jerking up to look her way. For a moment he just sat there, blinking, before catching himself, shaking his head. “...I’d like to try Imperial Black, if you have it,” he offered, an almost forced steadiness to his voice. But at least he was talking now- seeing him sit silently, for such a long stretch, was almost disturbing.

 

Billie nodded, stepping over to the small kitchenette and opening the cabinets. There was a box, still half full- she grabbed it down, setting it on the counter and grabbing the kettle in the same motion. As she filled the kettle, she broke the silence once more. “The bath upstairs should be working, if you want to get some of the dust off. Lady who lived here before left some of that fancy bubble bath, you seem like the sort to like that stuff.” 

 

He didn’t answer, but honestly, she hadn’t expected him to. She kept up the stream of chatter as she set the water to boil, turning to get down a pair of mugs. “I’ll put out feelers among some of my contacts tomorrow. See if I can get another boat, if any know one I can fix up. You’re more than welcome to come with.” She eyed the food in the pantry, eventually grabbing some grapes and dark bread, setting them onto a plate. The water now boiling, she poured it into the mugs, dipping the bags into the water. “One lump of sugar or two?” When he hesitated, she just grabbed the sugar bowl, setting it onto the tea tray with the rest and carrying the entire assortment over to the table. “Try it without, first. Don’t burn yourself,” she cautioned, as he lifted the mug, the tea within sloshing threateningly as his hand shook. The ex-god nodded, his other hand coming up to support the mug as he moved it to his mouth.

 

It was... bitter. A taste reminiscent of dark woods and soil, lingering in the roof of his mouth, clinging to his tongue. It burned going down his throat, a hot lump that settled uneasily in his stomach, and hiding a grimace, he set the mug back down. The woman was still talking, a steady, constant stream of chatter, and strangely, he found it... Almost reassuring. She didn’t expect him to answer- she didn’t even really seem to expect him to be paying attention. 

 

“You can let it cool for a minute if you need to. Eat something in the meantime, here.” His attention was drawn to the plate she was pointing towards, and after a moment, he reached down, picking up the grapes. He plucked one from the bunch, popping it into his mouth like he had watched others do so many times before and biting down.   
  


The sudden burst of flavor was so intense, it was almost overwhelming. Sweet, possibly slightly tart, and cold, crisp against his tongue. He savored it for a moment, shutting his eyes without realizing as he enjoyed his first grape in thousands of years. He’d never imagined a small green fruit could be an ambrosia, but he would certainly be the first to argue that it was. Without consciously thinking of it, he plucked another grape loose and slipped it into his mouth, inhaling sharply at the fresh burst of flavor.

 

Across the table, Billie raised an eyebrow as she watched him eat the grape. If it weren’t for the fact that she knew fully well that he was unlikely to even be thinking about sex for quite some time, she almost would have thought that he was doing it on purpose. It had to be a sin, the look of pure bliss on his face as he delighted in the fruit. Then again, she supposed, she knew well herself how wonderful even the simple things can taste, after so long without. She refrained from commenting, quietly stirring her sugar into her tea. She’d rather have had a whiskey, but it was better to not have her senses dulled just now, what with her new guest.

 

His grapes finished, he sat back up, taking the mug of tea again. After a moment of consideration, he dropped two lumps of sugar into the beverage, stirring it before taking a slow sip. Braced this time for the sensation, overwhelming after so long of nothing, it was still a bit of a jolt when it hit, though much milder than the grapes. He continued to sip slowly, letting the warm beverage sooth his parched throat.

 

When he finally felt... Well. Perhaps not steady, but steadier, anyway, he lifted his head again, looking across the table to the woman. His would-be killer. His savior. No matter how he turned it over in his head, he couldn’t understand it. He had seen the steps leading her to him, had watched her through her journey to his tomb- and never once had he thought she would do anything but kill him. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that she might  _ free _ him.

 

For a moment, he considered telling her his name. She’d given it back to him, after all- if anyone deserved to know it, it was her. But there was a tight feeling in his throat at the thought, his heart pounding in his chest, and he quickly dropped that idea. He’d only just gotten it back, after all. Surely it was understandable that he wanted to keep it to himself for a while yet.

 

Billie finally broke the not quite comfortable silence that had fallen, setting her empty cup back down on the tray with a clink. “I’m going to head out to the shops, see if I can’t find something your size. If you think you can manage to not drown yourself, the bath’s upstairs, first door on the right. You get tired, the room next to it has a bed. I’ll sleep out here tonight,” she added, noticing the flicker of an emotion she wouldn’t call fear across his face. “Bed’s too damn soft for me.” She waited until he nodded his acknowledgement, then got up, stretching out as she headed to the door. With any luck, he’d be asleep by the time she got back, and she could figure out what to do then.

 

(Hours later, when she had to rouse him out of the water, she’d have to admit to herself that she should have been more careful what she wished for. At least he was too groggy for it to be more awkward than absolutely necessary.)


End file.
